Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare [the lemonade war series .TXT] 📗

/> To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I'll come to thee.

OLIVIA.
God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so
oft?

MARIA.
How do you, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO.
At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.

MARIA.
Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

MALVOLIO.
'Be not afraid of greatness'; 'twas well writ.

OLIVIA.
What mean'st thou by that, Malvolio?

MALVOLIO.
'Some are born great,' -

OLIVIA.
Ha!

MALVOLIO.
'Some achieve greatness,' -

OLIVIA.
What say'st thou?

MALVOLIO.
'And some have greatness thrust upon them.'

OLIVIA.
Heaven restore thee!

MALVOLIO.
'Remember who commended thy yellow stockings,' -

OLIVIA.
Thy yellow stockings!

MALVOLIO.
'And wish'd to see thee cross-garter'd.'

OLIVIA.
Cross-garter'd!

MALVOLIO.
'Go to, thou art made, if thou desir'st to be so;' -

OLIVIA.
Am I made?

MALVOLIO.
'If not, let me see thee a servant still.'

OLIVIA.
Why, this is very midsummer madness.

[Enter SERVANT.]

SERVANT.
Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino's is return'd: I
could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship's
pleasure.

OLIVIA.
I'll come to him. [Exit SERVANT] Good Maria, let this fellow be
look'd to. Where's my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a
special care of him; I would not have him miscarry for the half
of my dowry.

[Exeunt OLIVIA and MARIA.]

MALVOLIO.
O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to
look to me! This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him
on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me
to that in the letter. 'Cast thy humble slough,' says she; 'be
opposite with kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang
with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of
singularity'; and, consequently, sets down the manner how; as, a
sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of
some sir of note, and so forth. I have lim'd her; but it is
Jove's doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away
now, 'Let this fellow be look'd to'; fellow! not Malvolio, nor
after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together,
that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle,
no incredulous or unsafe circumstance, - what can be said?
Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of
my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be
thank'd.

[Re-enter MARIA, with SIR TOBY and FABIAN.]

SIR TOBY.
Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of
hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I
'll speak to him.

FABIAN.
Here he is, here he is. How is 't with you, sir? how is 't with
you, man?

MALVOLIO.
Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private; go off.

MARIA.
Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you?
Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

MALVOLIO.
Ah, ha! does she so?

SIR TOBY.
Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him: let me
alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is 't with you? What, man! defy
the devil; consider, he 's an enemy to mankind.

MALVOLIO.
Do you know what you say?

MARIA.
La you, and you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart!
Pray God, he be not bewitch'd! My lady would not lose him for
more than I 'll say.

MALVOLIO.
How now, mistress!

MARIA.
O Lord!

SIR TOBY.
Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do you not see you
move him? let me alone with him.

FABIAN.
No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and
will not be roughly us'd.

SIR TOBY.
Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck?

MALVOLIO.
Sir!

SIR TOBY.
Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! 't is not for gravity to play
at cherry-pit with Satan. Hang him, foul collier!

MARIA.
Get him to say his prayers; good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

MALVOLIO.
My prayers, minx!

MARIA.
No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

MALVOLIO.
Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things. I am not of
your element; you shall know more hereafter.

[Exit.]

SIR TOBY.
Is 't possible?

FABIAN.
If this were play'd upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an
improbable fiction.

SIR TOBY.
His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

MARIA.
Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.

FABIAN.
Why, we shall make him mad indeed.

MARIA.
The house will be the quieter.

SIR TOBY.
Come, we 'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is
already in the belief that he 's mad: we may carry it thus, for
our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of
breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will
bring the device to the bar, and crown thee for a finder of
madmen. But see, but see.

[Enter SIR ANDREW.]

FABIAN.
More matter for a May morning.

SIR ANDREW.
Here 's the challenge, read it; I warrant there 's vinegar and
pepper in 't.

FABIAN.
Is 't so saucy?

SIR ANDREW.
Ay, is 't, I warrant him; do but read.

SIR TOBY.
Give me. [Reads] Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a
scurvy fellow.

FABIAN.
Good and valiant.

SIR TOBY.
[Reads] Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call
thee so, for I will show thee no reason for 't.

FABIAN.
A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.

SIR TOBY.
[Reads] Thou com'st to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses
thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter
I challenge thee for.

FABIAN.
Very brief, and to exceeding good sense - less.

SIR TOBY.
[Reads] I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance
to kill me, -

FABIAN.
Good.

SIR TOBY.
[Reads.] Thou kill 'st me like a rogue and a villain.

FABIAN.
Still you keep o' th' windy side of the law; good.

SIR TOBY.
[Reads] Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls!
He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look
to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy,
ANDREW AGUECHEEK.
If this letter move him not, his legs cannot; I'll give 't him.

MARIA.
You may have very fit occasion for 't; he is now in some commerce
with my lady, and will by and by depart.

SIR TOBY.
Go, Sir Andrew; scout me for him at the corner of the orchard,
like a bum-baily. So soon as ever thou see'st him, draw; and as
thou drawest, swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft, that a
terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twang'd off,
gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have
earn'd him. Away!

SIR ANDREW.
Nay, let me alone for swearing.
[Exit.]

SIR TOBY.
Now will not I deliver his letter; for the behaviour of the young
gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his
employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less:
therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed
no terror in the youth; he will find it comes from a clodpole.
But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon
Aguecheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, as
I know his youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous
opinion of his rage, skill, fury, and impetuosity. This will so
fright them both, that they will kill one another by the look,
like cockatrices.

[Re-enter OLIVIA with VIOLA.]

FABIAN.
Here he comes with your niece; give them way till he take leave,
and presently after him.

SIR TOBY.
I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a
challenge.

[Exeunt SIR TOBY, FABIAN, and MARIA.]

OLIVIA.
I have said too much unto a heart of stone,
And laid mine honour too unchary out.
There 's something in me that reproves my fault;
But such a headstrong potent fault it is,
That it but mocks reproof.

VIOLA.
With the same haviour that your passion bears,
Goes on my master's grief.

OLIVIA.
Here, wear this jewel for me, 't is my picture:
Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you:
And I beseech you come again to-morrow.
What shall you ask of me that I 'll deny,
That honour sav'd may upon asking give?

VIOLA.
Nothing but this, - your true love for my master.

OLIVIA.
How with mine honour may I give him that
Which I have given to you?

VIOLA.
I will acquit you.

OLIVIA.
Well, come again to-morrow; fare thee well.
A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
[Exit.]

[Re-enter SIR TOBY and FABIAN.]

SIR TOBY.
Gentleman, God save thee!

VIOLA.
And you, sir.

SIR TOBY.
That defence thou hast, betake thee to 't. Of what nature the
wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter,
full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the
orchard-end. Dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation; for
thy assailant is quick, skilful, and deadly.

VIOLA.
You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me: my
remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done
to any man.

SIR TOBY.
You'll find it otherwise, I assure you. Therefore, if you hold
your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your
opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill, and wrath can
furnish man withal.

VIOLA.
I pray you, sir, what is he?

SIR TOBY.
He is knight, dubb'd with unhatch'd rapier and on carpet
consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and
bodies hath he divorc'd three; and his incensement at this moment
is so implacable that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of
death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give 't or take 't.

VIOLA.
I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the
lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put
quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour; belike this
is a man of that quirk.

SIR TOBY.
Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent
injury. Therefore get you on and give him his desire. Back you
shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with
me which with as much safety you might answer him. Therefore on,
or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that 's
certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.

VIOLA.
This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this
courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him
is; it is something of my negligence,